


build a problem

by wednesdayevening



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, IRL Fic, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Health Issues, No Beta, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), this is short, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:33:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29083953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesdayevening/pseuds/wednesdayevening
Summary: Tommy's fine. He's fine.
Relationships: TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 25
Kudos: 335





	build a problem

He’s fine. He’s fine. 

Tommy’s fine. That’s the reason he stares at the vent channel on their Discord server for far too long, typing and typing and deleting and typing and never sending anything. It’s the reason he sends paragraphs of incoherent speech into the vent channel, heart leaping when they don’t immediately delete after a second. He’s got nothing to complain about, really. He’s doing it for attention. He’s fine.

He’s fine. He zones out when the sun comes up and falls back to Earth when the sun is setting, but he’s fine. He’s fine when he stares into space eight periods a day, five days a week. He’s fine despite his slipping grades, despite the fat red-circled letters on the top of his math tests, despite the raised eyebrows and disappointed eyes his parents seem to only address him with these days. He’s got no energy for anything anymore, no will or excitement, but that’s normal. He’s fine. He’s tired no matter how many hours of sleep he gets, but he’s fine.

He’s fine when he holds his Dad’s shaving razor in his hand at 3am, eyes puffy and shoulders shaking with phantom sobs. He’s fine when he drafts incomprehensible final notes nobody will ever read. He never does anything horribly drastic, because he’s fine. 

He doesn’t even deserve to be anything but fine - where’s his reason? Tommy’s life is perfect - two loving parents, a great group of friends, an amazing job literally any teenager would kill for. He’s famous and raking in the millions at  _ sixteen _ . He should be happy. There’s no excuse for him not to. 

“Tommy?” Wilbur asks late one night after a stream, concern pouring through the scratchy Discord voice call. “You okay, big man?”

“Of course,” Tommy says, because he is. 

“You don’t have to be fine, y’know,” Wilbur comments, and Tommy stops. Considers his words. Tastes them on his tongue and feels them sit and sour in his mouth.  _ Ask for help,  _ something screams, deep and repressed and scared in the very back of his mind.  _ Three words, and you could get help.  _ For a second, he considers it, parts his lips to feel freedom - 

\- and remembers his father’s disgusted expression when he’d asked for therapy. He spits Wilbur’s words back out again. He doesn’t need anything. He’s burdening Wilbur. He’s fine. 

“I know,” He says instead. He ups the facadè, musters up the energy he doesn’t have, scrapes at the bottom of the cookie jar for grains of hope and comes back empty-handed. He’s fine. Nobody ought to be worried, but just in case, he grins a bit more. Laughs a bit louder.

He’s fine. He submits his essays and rolls out of bed. He laughs with his friends, posts funny Tweets, smiles with his parents and takes the dogs for walks. He boots up Streamlabs, digs his bitten nails deep into his forearm, and cracks a smile. Grins for the camera. Laughs and whoops with joy and swears; he’s fine. He’s fine.

“How are you, mate?” Phil asks.

“I’m fine,” Tommy says. He’s fine. 

**Author's Note:**

> <3 
> 
> tumblr: wednesdayyevening


End file.
